By Nous

                            March 30, 2007


AS IF STONED

Well, I'm awake in my bed, I thought. I guess everything went smoothly
enough last night.
For some reason I didn't question that I was still in my jeans and jacket,
and not in my pajamas. And somehow I had overlooked the enormous vomit
stain on my pants. Actually I only noticed it after I had breakfast and
made very polite and, I thought, awesome small talk with my parents. Curled
up on the couch with my knee near my face, I could smell the vomit. There
it was. Right on the knee.
I went into my room and wondered, "What the hell happened last night?"
I was wearing my old glasses because I couldn't find my new ones. I called
Javad, who had stayed with me at the party.
"Hey, where are my glasses?"
"They should be on your face. I put them there last night when I left you
in that chair in your backyard."
"What?"
"Hey, did you ever find your keys?"
I looked down beside my computer mouse and saw that my Coca-Cola key
chain with the Deedee I got from the vending machine was not there.
"No. What the fuck happened?"
Wel, apparently I'd gotten so drunk that I fell flat on my face when I
tried to walk up to my house and almost broke my glasses. I rolled around
for a while on the front yard until Javad helped me walk up to the front
door where he sat me down on the bench. It was there that I threw up, and
now there's a huge stain right there.
SOMEHOW, Javad took me to the backyard, called my brother asking if there
was a spare key around because mine were gone. The answer was no, and he
left me for dead on that chair. But I awoke in my bed. At this point my
mom walked in and asked what kind of state I was in last night that I lost
my shoes.
It wasn't entirely my fault. It was required that everyone leave their
shoes at the front door. Javad had gotten his on the way out and hadn't
even helped me get mine. He's inadequate.
There was no excuse for any of it though, so I didn't really tell my mom
much.
It was the Jager that did it. Once the beer ran out I did shot after shot
of Jagermeister. It was at some point during this display of stupidity that
a girl I had talked to earlier that night approached me. The witch girl.
Her eyes were weird, and seemed to penetrate my being. So when she looked
at me I told her she looked like a witch. She was immediately and
outrageously offended. She said, "I'm going to get away from you."
But while I poured myself some Jager there she was. I don't know what I
told her, honestly. But she just began to grind up against me. I was
confused. What had I said to her? I still don't remember.
Anyway, she stopped grinding and just started kissing me. At first I
didn't react. She was kissing a statue. Then I thought, "Eh, what the
hell," and played along.
"You're a good kisser," she said, surprised. That's about the last thing
I remember.
After that night, Sunday could only hold a deep absence of fulfillment.

SUNDAY (mom's day)

My parents were already gone. There was a barbeque at my aunt's house --
Luis' house. I invited Jason to go because I wanted to be surrounded by
people I knew. The whole day was like smoking an endless cigarette. A sense
of pause, thoughts flying, disconnection.
When Jason put a flower in the water so it could float on, I dumped my Coke
on it, and it was perfect.
It was at this point that I realized Chico was also in a strange mood. I
could see it in him. He kept making littls comments about how the government
was controlling his mind.
I said, "You're going insane."
It was then that he made the great comment:

"That's all life is, man. Cussing and losing your mind."

Jaime, Jason, and I went to his house later to taste his mead. He bottled
it and everything. It was good. Strong.
When we left to go get Jason's guitar from Jaime's a train was stopped on
the railroad tracks, and it was another great metaphor. I asked, "What
the hell is up with God?"
Jason said he was fucking with shit, like when I change all the instruments
on a tabit song just to see what it will sound like all fucked up (i.e.
Insane Train). And it was true.
I believe now that I was given psychic abilities on that day. Will they
spill over? It's hard to say. Would I even want it to? It was a little
scary hearing voices everytime I tried to think or concentrate on
something else. I think I only allowed myself to be tuned into that (it
would normally scare the shit out of me) because the feeling of "what have
I really got to live for" was so immensely powerful.
After all, does not my spirit continue to be raped by the constant living?
What's a little automatic writing in comparison to this industrialized
world in which there is only moving forward through the machinery. It's a
damn fantasy.

VIRGO MOON

There are certain feelings, like desperation or shame -- or deeper
feelings that exist outside of language -- that can be felt to such a
degree that fear is almost impossible. It would be rare to experience
both simultaneously to an equal extent without going mad, I would say.
There are people who are in this state most of their lives, and others
who experience it now and then. But it is in those moments, brief or
winding, that the mystics come about. Some will call them geniuses --
others, heretics or madmen. I call them the channels, because it is they
to whom the spirits appear, pure or misguided. But in this realization
of powerlessness comes a great creativity.
Let go of everything!

"CAL"

Travis Landolt and I wore high heels last night and put on a runway
show while Curtis and his girlfriend fought nonstop and basically
broke up as Candace (who lives downstairs from the, I think) gave us
tips on how to be sexier. It was one of the strangest things on the
world. Jason and I talked about how people basically get together
because life is unbearable. You can't go crazy all by yourself, and
I'm glad someone could understand that.
I went to sleep at five in the morning after drinking heavily (high
heels duh!) and woke up five hours later to help my uncles finish the
kitchen.
My mom wanted a cement floor instead of the old tiles. Plus that
shit was uneven. At any rate I've been up since ten shoveling sand
and concrete into a wheelbarrow. I haven't eaten yet. It's only
one in the aft (coined) but I haven't eaten since Travis and I
gorged ourselves on Taco Bell last night. I want some sushi.
I'm waiting for my significant other to call. She and I have some
shit to resolve. That stuff is hilarious. I barely care anymore.
Maybe afterwards I'll care more.
This shoveling shit has me yearning to become a teacher more than
ever.
As I was standing around, I heard my uncle say that the mixture we
were pouring onto the kitchen floor needed 'cal,' which is a word
that I haven't heard in four or five years, maybe more. Back when my
dad ran the soccer league, I'd always have to go grab him some cal
to
go over the lines on the field. Then one day I just didn't hear that
word anymore. Now it's back, and I'm ensuring that it sticks around
('less I forget).
There is one thing I like about this work. It gives you a real man's
appetite. That Whataburger was one of the best things I've ever
eaten.

INVISIBLE

I fell asleep after I read this wonderful children's book called
"How Tom Beat Captain Najork and his Hired Sportsmen," but before
falling asleep, I realized that I could completely see my room.
You have to tell me if this has ever happened to you. But I was
wanting not to sleep, because I figured I'd be out for about two
hours and I didn't want to lose that time from my Slumber. When I
closed my eyes I was thinking about that, and all of a sudden I
just noticed I could see my computer desk. Eyes closed, I looked
around (eyeballs flitting) and I could see where my TV was, my guitar
case, the shelf, the door. I could see everything.
I thought, "Am I just immediately astral projecting?"
But no, there was no sensation of weightlessness. I could feel the
bed and I could see through my eyelids. I figured, "I should TRY to
astral project."
It didn't work because I was too tired. But it made me sleep.
I don't know how much longer after that, but Fulkerson called me from
Ben's phone and I told him I wasn't going over to Ben's after all. I
hung up and closed my eyes. And god damn it. I could see my damn hand
right through my eyelids, but it was waning. I could no longer see as
far as my computer desk. Before it disappeared completely I managed
to entertain myself with a Fist Opening light show, though.

CELERY YOURS

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